


Our loved ones

by LaurelSilver



Series: The 'other' universe [3]
Category: 2P Hetalia - Fandom, Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Kidnapping, Revenge, Trauma, rape victim - Freeform, tense changes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-28
Updated: 2015-02-28
Packaged: 2018-03-15 16:00:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3453278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaurelSilver/pseuds/LaurelSilver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How Lutz got the scar on his cheek</p>
            </blockquote>





	Our loved ones

**Author's Note:**

> CHARACTER NAMES;  
> Seamus 'Northern Ireland' Kirkland  
> Luke 'Wales' Kirkland  
> Rhiona 'Republic of Ireland' Kirkland  
> Scottie 'Scotland' Kirkland  
> Lutz 'Germany' Beillschmidt  
> Gilbert 'Prussia' Beillschmidt  
> Nikolai 'Russia' Braginski  
> Kuro 'Japan' Honda

_**Whatever I want,** _  
_**I will get** _

  
Seamus threw his clothes across the bathroom, as far away from himself as he could. Blood stained his fingertips, leaving marks on everything he touched as he climbed into the bath/shower. He turned the water as hot as it could go, and as the steam rose around him it still wasn’t hot enough, and he scrubbed at his pinking shin with the soap, his nails scraping at his flesh as blood mixed with water, running down his legs, ankles, feet, and spirals down the plug.

  
Blinded with tears, fear and pain, he squeezed the soap too tight and it slipped through his fingers to the floor. He stooped to pick it up, and the water beating down onto his back felt like a heavy hand caressing far too low, and he collapsed to the puddled floor with a scream, sobbing and crying uncontrollably.

  
Luke hammered on the door, “Seamus? Seamus, what’s wrong?”

  
Seamus didn’t answer. He could hardly hear his brother over the noise of water falling uselessly against the tiles.

  
The door rattled as Luke continued to knock and yell, the wood trembling under his heavy fists. It stopped suddenly, and the lock turned, as if on it’s own.

  
Rhiona dashed through, slamming the door in Luke’s face and locking it before he could follow her. She shut off the water, grabbing her twin’s attention.

  
They sat together on the wet floor, Rhiona allowing Seamus to sob into her shoulder. She carefully wiped the last of the blood off him, as gently as she could over scratches and bruises. Thin lines of purple encircled his wrists, deep nail marks lined his thighs and lower back, and handprints blossomed over his hips.

  
The door broke under Luke’s fist, Scottie following the Welshman in.

  
As Luke kept demanding to know “What the hell’s going on? Why is there blood? Why are you crying? Why are you wet?”, Scottie pulled the first aid kit out from under the sink. He was careful as he rubbed salve into the bruises around Seamus’s wrists, allowing the Irishman to do the rest himself after he flinched under a touch to his leg.

  
“Who did this?” Luke demanded.

  
Again, Seamus didn’t answer. He just stared down at his leg, still rubbing at the lines on the underside, the salve long soaked in, Scottie still knelt in front of him with the tub held out.

  
Luke had to carry him out, Seamus refusing to move, refusing to speak. Wrapped in a towel, Seamus allowed himself to be carried downstairs to the living room, limp as a rag doll. He was laid down over the settee, head on the armrest and body stretched out.

  
“Who did this?” Luke repeated. Seamus still didn’t answer, simply staring at his brother emptily.

  
Scottie gave a grunt, pointing at the bookcase.

  
“Yeah, a story,” Luke agreed, “Rhiona, go grab a book, there’s a dear.”

  
Rhiona pulled down a large orange book, and perched herself on the edge of the settee. With a wince of pain, Seamus sat up, leaning against her as she opened the book. He pointed at the page, and Rhiona flipped on to another section. He pointed again, and Rhiona frowned. She pointed, then dragged her finger to one side of the page, then the other. Seamus pointed, and slowly dragged his finger to the left.

  
Rhiona threw the book down, standing up. Seamus yelled in Gaelic, Scottie only understanding the word words “Danger” and “Please”, after his twin as she wrapped her plait around itself to form a large bun, marching out of the house. The orange-bound atlas lay on the floor, open on a map of Europe, a line left by Seamus’s fingernail torn from the edge of the page to Germany.

 

* * *

 

_**I’ll take the beatings too,** _  
_**And all the blame** _

  
Lutz growls as he examined the frayed cord. Made mostly of plastic, it have been should be practically impossible to break out of, but although Lutz already knew that the Kirkland siblings are a bunch of determined bastards when they want to be, he wasn’t expecting Seamus to escape so quickly. He’d had a lot planned for the redhead.

  
A heavy knock resounded at the door. Armed with his Luger, loaded and cocked, he walked to the front door and leant on it, peeking through the spy hole. Red hair and freckles stood there, staring dead ahead at the door, statue still.

  
Without thinking, Lutz opened the door. “Back again? Missed me?”

  
He reeled backwards as Rhiona punched him squarely in the face.

  
“I was going to be nice to you over running away, since you came back,” Lutz scolded ‘Seamus’, “But I can’t forgive lashing out- you’re not Seamus.”

  
Rhiona kicked him in the stomach. Doubled over, Lutz tucked his head down and tumbled away, out of the way of the angry woman’s boots. He crouched and dove back, wrapping his arms around her legs and dragging her down onto the floor with him.

  
They wrestled there, Rhiona very clearly outmatched by the bulky German but refusing to bend to his will, biting and scratching and kicking, until Lutz managed to flip her over and pin her to the floor with her arm twisted behind her back. She didn’t make a noise, or even change her expression from a blank stare, as he continued to twist her arm until her shoulder dislocated.

  
He pulled her up, holding her by her injured arm as he glared down at her. She stared back evenly, lips pursed for several seconds until she peeled them back and spat on his face.

  
Smoothly, Lutz grabbed her forearm with both hands and slams it down, kicking his knee up to meet it, and the Irishwoman’s bone snapped on impact. He held her by the wrist and the elbow, pulling and twisting and pushing, until he forced the skin to stretch over the break, the splinters stabbing through the skin, the break becoming a bloody mess of broken skin and spears of bone.

  
Rhiona still refused to make a noise. Her teeth were grinding, tears were welling in her eyes; her mask of indifference was cracked, but remained unbroken.

  
Lutz dragged her to the kitchen, securing her to the handle of a drawer by her un-broken arm with a plastic tie, not intending to lose two of the Kirklands in one day. That would just be embarrassing. He turned away, getting on with cooking a large pot of pasta.

  
Something bounced off Rhiona’s boot. She looked down to see a marble rolling away, having rebounded off her foot, towards the kitchen door. Gilbert laid there, staring up at her.

  
The Prussian caught the marble and stood up right. He held up a pair of scissors and pointed to the plastic tie. Rhiona, not above accepting help when she needs it, nodded.  
Gilbert snuck into the room, almost silent. But instead of cutting the tie like Rhiona had expected, he pressed the handles of the scissors into her good hand and retreated.  
Rhiona cut through the tie with some difficulty, having to position the scissors with the injured hand and bend the bound hand almost in half in order to close them. The snip seemed loud to her, and she froze, but Lutz was too preoccupied with boiling water to hear it.

  
The bubbling of the boiling water was louder then her footsteps, stepped carefully onto her toes to stop her heels from clicking against the tile. He didn’t know she was there until she’d thrown her injured arm over his shoulder and around his torso, and the open blades of the scissors were digging into his cheek.

  
Mercilessly she cut, opening and closing the scissors repeatedly as she drove them into his cheek. He yelled in pain, the movement stretching the skin and causing it to rip and tear.

  
He shoved her away, seizing the closest thing to him, the pot of water, and throwing it. Rhiona put her arms up to defend herself, knocking the pot away, the force sending a bolt of pain through her broken limb, boiling water over spilling onto her legs and soaking her trousers, burning her skin. She dove at him, forcing his head back, trying to push his head into the open flame on the stove.

  
He shoved her away again, grabbing a large knife and slashing at her. Rhiona grabs the pan, still hot and heavy, and blocked the knife, tossing the water over him. Lutz slipped as he retreated from the scalding liquid, falling flat on his backside. Rhiona swung down with the pot, smacking him in the head with it. He fell to the side with a grunt.

  
Rhiona knelt next to him, taking the scissors again and swung them down from high above her head down into his opened cheek. Teeth broke, and Lutz screamed. Rhiona took the pot again, bringing it down repeatedly onto his head until his body had stopped moving and his blood and brains and broken skull sat in a thick mush on the floor.

  
Gilbert offered to re-set her arm as she stalked out of the front door. He wasn’t surprised, or even offended, when she blatantly ignores his existence.

* * *

  
_**But, brother, you’re the one** _  
_**That I’ve missed** _

  
Seamus re-set her arm. He was dressed, in thick, covering clothes, his wrists had been bandaged, and the tub of salve was never far away from him. He smelt strongly of it, covering up the usual smells of alcohol and cigarette smoke and burnt sugar.

  
It hurt. Rhiona screamed. It is the first noise she had made in a long while.

* * *

  
_**I’m grateful that we have** _  
_**Our loved ones near** _

  
Society may have deteriorated over the last hundred years, and Lutz may be one of Nikolai’s best workers, but Nikolai is still a merciless bastard. Scottie swears that Gilbert was half-smiling as he had handed Lutz over to Yang and Kuro for punishment, Kuro cackling something about pliers and testicles.

  
Nikolai does something, that damned Russian is always doing something, to cause Rhiona’s work on Lutz’s cheek to remain, even after everything else regenerates. Nikolai allows Yang to study Lutz’s teeth, gums and jaw through the open wound, cutting into him further to investigate further into the anatomy Yang is already familiar with, Lutz having no option but to sit there and take his punishment.

  
“Irischlampe,” Lutz calls Rhiona now. Irish-bitch. As if his punishment is her fault.

  
Rhiona and Seamus have been inseparable since. Rhiona is determined to protect her brother. Seamus is afraid of being alone. Some people call the close bond, the inseparability, between Rhiona and Seamus a ‘twin thing’. Rhiona and Seamus are unsure whether they would agree or disagree with that.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Lyrics used from Volbeat's Our Loved Ones
> 
> HEADCANNONS;  
> The twins are very protective of each other. See above.  
> 2pEngland uses Scottie for cupcake ingredients, leaving him very weak  
> Rhiona doesn't talk a lot  
> Kuro likes torturing people


End file.
